Hitched to the Alien General Read online

  What interested Xaan though, was the uniform. It was similar to the ones he’d seem Kenna and her friend Jane wear in images he’d seen in their terran files. This man… Xaan tilted his head to read the name on the breast pocket. Stephens… This man, Stephens, was Terran military. A marine like Kenna.

  “Hey there,” he said as the man’s eyes opened slowly. At least, the left one did. The right was nearly swollen shut. “Back in the land of the living?”

  Stephens swallowed and groaned as he rolled painfully to a sitting position against the wall. He looked over at Xaan, the swift assessing look telling the Latharian warrior there was nothing wrong with the human’s mind or instincts.

  “They get you as well?” Stephens asked, his voice almost as deep as Xaan’s. “Bad luck, dude.”

  Xaan gave a small grunt of confirmation. “Fell for the distress call trick. You?”

  As soon as he’d felt that muzzle at the back of his head, just above the juncture between skull and spine, he’d figured it out. The colony broadcast a distress call to bring in its prey. Then once it was in the web, they pounced like a spider to feast. It was a neat trick that got them new technology and replacement parts, as well as new blood, if they were lucky.

  “Nah.” Stephens shook his head. “I was the one in distress. My ship was attacked and destroyed. Ended up in an escape pod somehow.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a frown creasing his brow. “Then crashed here. They picked me up after I ejected from the pod. Don’t recall that part. The pod was destroyed before they got to me.”

  The man’s voice was level but Xaan easily picked up the confusion as he couldn’t recall part of the chain of events. That wasn’t a surprise. If his ship had been destroyed and then he’d ejected from an escape pod… human bodies were more fragile than Latharian ones, and the angry bruising at his temple told Xaan the male had taken at least one knock to the head. Memory loss was to be expected.

  But… Xaan’s gaze slid sideways to the crumpled form of a bot in the corner of the cell. “That with you in the pod?”

  Stephens held Xaan’s gaze with his good eye. “Yes. It’s a new experimental unit. They want me to wake it up since it apparently destroyed the pod while I was out of it. But its battery is dead.”

  Xaan nodded at the male’s explanation but he knew it was utter trallshit. The unit wasn’t new or experimental. It was a regular Latharian worker bot, the kind used for maintenance aboard most ships. They ran on automated routines and did the dirty jobs to free up warriors stationed aboard for other duties. But… they were hardcoded to protect life. It would be more than capable of getting an incapacitated warrior, or a being it had registered as Latharian, off a damaged ship and into an escape pod.

  What was interesting though was that it had removed Stephens from the pod and destroyed it. Why would it bother? He’d studied the schematics from human ships, and like Latharian ones, the pods were designed for one way trips. The thing wouldn’t fly again, so why destroy it? Random destruction wasn’t coded into their neural nets.

  “Your ship was experimental?” Xaan asked with interest, studying the bot. It wasn’t a combat model, so there was no onboard weaponry, but that didn’t mean it was harmless. Worker bots were built on the same chassis as combat ones, the limiting factor was the workers were operated by non-AI computer “brains.”

  Even though Latharian ships were often fitted with AIs, laws had been passed years ago that banned their use in avatar bodies. An AI had been fitted into a physical body in an attempt to create invulnerable troops for the battlefield. The thing, previously stable, had gone mad and killed dozens before it was finally put down, and laws had been passed the same day. Now, if an AI was found to have downloaded into anything approaching a Latharian form, it was instantly destroyed. No one wanted a repeat of the same tragedy.

  “Yes,” Stephens replied but Xaan could tell he was lying. Oh, he was good at it. He didn’t display the normal body language clues that gave away the falsehood. Instead, he was still, his gaze intent and focused on Xaan. Too focused. Like he was trying to will Xaan to believe him. The tiny change in his breathing combined with Xaan’s gut instinct… all added up to indicate the human was lying.

  “Huh. Nice gig if you can get it.” Xaan shrugged.

  He settled himself back more comfortably against the wall and looked around their prison. Stephens was hiding the fact that the bot was alien tech, but did that mean he couldn’t trust the male? He could do with an ally on the inside as well as the outside. And if that bot had an active database and uplink, he might be able to access the beacons and use them to boost the signal to call for help. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

  Even better if he could get the bot working. A few command codes and he could set it to register only him, Kenna and Stephens as Latharian. Any move Dex and his little friends made then would be met with extreme violence. Between him and the bot? They were fucked, well and truly.

  He studied Stephens out the corner of his eye. So far he hadn’t been impressed by human males. Dex, the few he’d seen here…the ones he’d dealt with in Terran high command who had consistently tried to screw the Lathar over. None of them had inspired confidence.

  But there was something about the way Stephens held himself, the air of capability around him and the look in his eye. If Xaan didn’t know better, he could have sworn the male was Lathar. He was even built along the same lines, if a little smaller. He had similar muscle mass, but not the height. Perhaps some Latharian traits had survived in the males?

  He made a snap judgement, looking directly at Stephens.

  “You are aware it’s Latharian?”

  Stephens didn’t react, not by so much as a flicker of his eyelid.

  “Now why would you go and say a thing like that?” he asked. “You don’t strike me as the same sort of paranoid fuck Dex is, seeing aliens around every corner.”

  Xaan’s lips quirked. Oh yes, this one was as sharp as a combat dagger. “I’m not paranoid, no. You’re asking the wrong question though.”

  “Oh?” Stephens’ eyebrow winged up for a second. “What question should I be asking?”

  Xaan let the silence stretch out for long seconds. “You should be asking why I recognize that it’s Latharian technology. Specifically worker model HC-seven-four-nine… Probably B class.”

  Stephens’ eyes narrowed a little. Just a fraction in the corners. “That level of knowledge?” His gaze flicked over Xaan in much the same way Xaan had just assessed him. “The muscle you’re packing and the fact you’re hiding both that you’re not that injured and behind that frankly terrible trader accent? I’d say you were Latharian yourself.”

  Xaan allowed the slow grin to spread over his face. “Perhaps human males aren’t so dumb after all.”

  Stephens’ eyes widened in shock, quickly controlled. “Shit. You are? That was a wild guess.”

  Xaan inclined his head. “I am. You’re more perceptive than most.”

  “Who are you?” Stephens fired the question, back on mission almost immediately, a fact that pleased Xaan. Yeah, he’d written human males off prematurely.

  “It doesn’t matter who I am, just that I’m here. Which massively increases your chances of survival. If you’re with me?”

  10

  “I’m so sorry that you had to find out this way, my dear. It must be an awful shock,” Dex said, his face a mask of false concern and understanding as he sat opposite her in the canteen area of the main building.

  Kenna kept her fantasies of killing him with the tin coffee mug in her hand to herself and shrugged. “Love is blind sometimes,” she murmured softly, keeping an upset little catch in her voice. So far they were buying the shocked wife routine.

  “Thank you,” she murmured to Maggie as the older woman put down a plate of flatcakes with some of the berries they’d picked this morning on the side.

  “We had a whirlwind courtship and married within a week,” she revealed, reaching out for a cake. She wa
s supposed to be upset, but food was food and as a marine she’d long ago learned to eat and sleep whenever she could. “Sorry,” she mumbled around a mouthful of cake. “Comfort eater.”

  “You eat as many as you like, love,” Maggie said with a smile, squeezing her shoulder before moving off to yell at someone in the back of the kitchen area, “No, don’t put that down there! Bloody hell, have to do everything myself!”

  Dex smiled as the big woman bustled off. “Bloody miracle, she is. No idea what I’d do without her.”

  Kenna gave a small smile, her gaze following Maggie for a moment. She looked like everyone’s favorite grandma, but she was obviously one of Dex’s most trusted people. What colony had she come from and why had she joined the scavengers? How many people had she helped to kill? How many in that mass grave were down to her? It went to show that appearances could be deceptive. Just because someone looked like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth didn’t mean they were good. The most innocent and pure appearance could conceal the blackest of hearts.

  Like her, for example. Here she was pretending to be a heartbroken bride when in reality she was plotting how quickly she could get these people in a cell for their crimes. And, she realized, if she couldn’t put them in a cell, she’d happily put them into the same mass grave they’d condemned so many of their victims to. Because she doubted this was the first colony they’d taken over.

  “So… how are you feeling?” Dex drew her attention back to him with a soft comment and a gentle touch on her arm. He really was pulling out all the stops with her. Classic understanding shoulder to cry on. She knew the next part of his play… A shoulder to cry on became a dick to ride on. That’s what they said, wasn’t it? Some point soon, Dex was going to make his interest in her known. For “when she was ready” of course, but he’d let her know she was welcome to join them at his side, and in his bed.

  “I’ll get there.” She offered him a small, tremulous smile. “I just can’t believe it, you know? A spy? For them? The aliens?” She looked around as though the Lathar would overhear them and leap out of the shadows.

  “I mean… where did he meet them? How did they get to him? He’s human for heaven’s sakes! What would persuade him to betray his own people?” she cried, laying it on thick. They obviously didn’t suspect Xaan wasn’t human and she didn’t want them to start thinking down that route. He could end up like one of the bodies in the mortuary cabinets.

  A cold chill rolled down her spine. Had Dex done that to those poor people? She didn’t believe him as far as she could throw him about how they’d died. No predator caused injuries like that. It looked more like they’d been in heavy combat or an industrial accident. Perhaps that was it. They’d died in the battle when the colony had been taken over, and Dex and his lot had mutilated the bodies to show poor saps who turned up, lured in by their fake distress signal like her and Xaan.

  “I don’t know, my dear. There, there… it’s all going to be alright,” he murmured, shifting around to the chair next to her to pull her into a reassuring embrace against one bony shoulder. While he was almost as tall as Xaan, he didn’t have anywhere near the same muscle mass. Her skin crawled as he patted her back, as though it were trying to escape his touch. She managed to stop herself flinching and remained still.

  A prickle across the back of her neck made her open her eyes and she spotted a woman near the kitchen glaring at her. It was Bulldog again, the same woman who’d stopped the young girl from talking to Kenna last night.

  Unlike Maggie, who was all smiles and grandmotherly concern, Bulldog’s look made no pretense about the fact she didn’t like Kenna. Not one little bit. That one she could believe had dumped people into a mass grave. Her gaze flickered toward Dex and her hostility made sense. She was interested in the scavenger leader.

  You’re welcome to him, sweetheart, Kenna thought as she managed to extricate herself from Dex’s octopus-like hands.

  “T-Thank you.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Where she’d managed to drag up some tears from she had no idea, but she had. Perhaps she should look into a new career in acting when she got back to Lathar Prime… “Most people would have lumped me in that cell with him. Assumed I was a traitor as well.”

  “I would never think of you that way, my dear. It can’t have escaped your notice that I think a lot of you…” Dex reached out to cover her hands with one of his, his expression serious but soft. Here it came. “Obviously it’s way too early to think of things like that, but I’d just like you to know that there will always be a place for you here. With me…”

  She schooled her expression. She knew the asshole would try and make a move on her at some point.

  Carefully, she framed a teary, but surprised expression. “I’m… err, really? I-I’m flattered,” she looked away, but even as good as her acting skills were, she couldn’t pull a blush out of the hat. Pale and interesting would have to do.

  She snuck a glance up at him from under her lashes, feeling sick as she played the flustered but flattered… what… spy’s estranged wife? “I’m… I couldn’t yet. Not with it being so soon after…” She trailed off and looked away.

  “Yes… yes. When you’re ready, of course, my dear,” he said benevolently, patting her hand. “I just wanted you to know so you didn’t worry. Your future is assured.”

  That last line made her pause, and in an instant she realized that had she been what she appeared, the wife of a trader falsely accused by Dex, her fate was already sealed. “Steve” would no doubt have met with an accident, leaving Dex clear to move in on the young widow.

  She had to get Xaan out of there, and fast. Because trying to kill a Latharian warrior of Xaan’s level was only going to end one way—brutal and bloody violence that would blow their cover six ways to Sunday.

  “Thank you so much.” She looked down at the data console on the table in front of them. It was an older model, a type often used by the colonies because it was rugged and reliable. She dragged it toward her. “Let me work on breaking his codes so we can open up the ship. I want to know how much he’s screwed humanity over… and he has my shit still on his ship. I want it back.”

  * * *

  They were watching her.

  Kenna kept up her pretense of a betrayed wife all through the afternoon and evening meal. It didn’t take much. They were all so ready to believe “Steve” was a spy. She’d caught hints of the conversation through dinner. Whispers as they all looked her way with pity—stereotyping him because he was “too good-looking” and “they’d known something was up.” Comments about that “poor young woman all alone now” had made her blink. Either they were all expert actors trying to mess with her head, or at least some of them had bought into Dex’s bullshit.

  She sighed into the darkness as she sat on the compound wall looking out. She’d come out here after dinner, murmuring to the guards that she needed to clear her head. A nod and she’d been waved through but, for the last hour, they’d watched her carefully.

  So they should. Her only reason for coming up here was to see where she could drop down the wall on the other side and make it to the ship. She was pretty sure Xaan would have set the security system so she could access it, and she’d like to see the walls of that prison stand up against Latharian shipboard weapons. She’d blow the shit out of the place to get him out.

  But she couldn’t do any of that while the freaking guards were watching her like hawks. She felt like she was under the damn microscope. Get bored. Wander off, she mentally urged them. Nothing to see here. She managed to stop just short of waving at them. She wasn’t supposed to be as perceptive as that.

  Just when she thought she might be able to slip away into the shadows, footsteps behind her made her turn around. Inwardly, she suppressed a sigh. Dex was coming along the catwalk at the top of the wall toward her, his expression splitting into a smile as he saw her looking.

  But he was just a fraction of a second too late. She’d seen the cold and calculatin
g look he’d covered up quickly. Yeah… if she really was Suzie Renner and she turned him down, she’d end up in the same unmarked grave as her husband. Dex wasn’t the type to take no for an answer.

  “Hey,” she smiled as he got closer. “Couldn’t sleep either? I came up here to clear my head.” She motioned to the valley around them, the fields painted in shades of grey and midnight, silver glimmers from the triad moons above casting highlights over the top of the crops and drawing the line of the river to the west. “This view, huh? I can totes see why you guys decided on this place.”

  Dex took a seat on the block next to her, obviously dragged up here on purpose. “Yeah…” He looked out over the valley. “It’s paradise alright. We count ourselves lucky every day.”

  Huh. Paradise rotten more like.

  Kenna kept her thoughts to herself as she slid a sideways glance at the guy. She had to give something, she knew that, to keep them off the scent. So far she’d piddled about all day pretending to try and break Xaan’s encryption codes on his ship when in reality she’d just been moving numbers around.

  “I could see myself settling down here,” she admitted in a soft voice. “It’s so beautiful.”

  Dex reached out to pat her knee, his voice filled with pleasure. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Obviously, this is all on your terms… when you’re ready. Not before. I promise.”

  Yeah, like she’d trust the word of a murdering, psycho scavenger. But she nodded and smiled, sliding him another coy little glance from under her lashes.

  “Well,” she said, a little too brightly. “I should get some sleep. Get an early start on that code tomorrow so we can get into the ship. Perhaps we can even use the radio to mend the one here?” she added with a smile. “And we have other stuff on board that I’m sure will make life a little easier here.”